Tim shifts back immediately. He's not fond, as it happens, of being touched. He's not fond of people intruding on his personal space.

And he's not fond of people assuming they know a damn thing about him.

"You've got no clue what I want, pal," he says flatly. "And I know damn well what consequences are. So like I said - you don't get to decide what I mean by it."

He's a living, walking knot of fucking consequence. He lives with it every day.

People thinking they know what he is, what he means, what he's going to be -

He's not one for it.